Dean's Diaries cough 'Hunting' Journals
by NervousParanoia
Summary: He can't seriously keep all that stuff bottled up inside all the time, can he? Well, Sam's going to find out.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Dean's Diaries _'Hunting'_ Journals  
**Words: **590 words  
**Warnings: **Just references Season One  
**Author's Notes: **Based on a idea from a reply by Relativity1953 (I'll give you credit for the idea, unless the story sucks, then I'll take all the blame.) Also, I've got some other entries written out, but it might take me a little while to work them into a story.

* * *

**Dean's Diaries cough '_Huntin_g' Journals**

In all the ways Sam and Dean are different, there are as many ways they are the same. Just like Sam, there are some things Dean just had to keep to himself. Like the time he went to Tijuana and drank all that tequila and jumped over that one fence into that . . . well, you get the picture.

Dean had some _'hunting'_ journals he kept hidden away in the trunk of his precious Impala, right next to his precious revolver and his precious rock salt. These _'hunting' _journals held his _'thoughts' _on various creatures and supernatural stuff they had encountered over the years. At least that's what he told Sam that time he made the mistake of pulling the journals out to show his brother a picture from their past.

The truth? They held his thoughts and feelings. The whole truth? If any doctor found them, Dean might find himself with a one-way ticket to crazy town and a brand-new white jacket. And those just get dirty so fast.

Of course he probably deserves what's coming to him. He made another mistake when he pulled out those journals: He told Sam not to look at them.

It was 3:45 in the morning, and Sam Winchester was on a mission. It would probably get him killed, but he didn't care. He was going to read Dean Winchester's journals.

Using the years of training drilled into him by his father, Sam moved stealthily out of their cheesy hotel room. No, seriously, they were in the Swiss Cheese Capitol of the United States: Monroe, Wisconsin. The hotel was an homage to cheese and all products having to do with cheese. There were freaking cows on the door handles —that mooed. It didn't matter; however, because he doused Dean's dinner with crushed up sleeping pills. And no, he didn't feel bad about it . . . yet.

He eased the door closed behind him and moved out to the car. Turning the key in the lock, he opened the trunk where the forbidden books lay waiting for him. He pushed the revolver and rock salt out of the way and lifted the flap that hid the journals from sight. Glancing over the covers he noticed they had dates written on them. _'That's so girly,'_ he thought. Although, he also knew, he would do it, too.

Sifting through the books, he found the earliest journal. The first page held only one sentence:

_Sam left today._

The simple sentence, in shaky handwriting that hardly seemed like his brother's, held so much inside its twelve letters.

Turning the page, he began reading. It was dated a couple of days later.

_Dad acts like he isn't even here, but I think it's just his way of dealing with stuff. I'm sure he'll blow up eventually. _

_At least there aren't any more fights over who gets shotgun. _

The entries were short and sweet.

After a few pages, Sam realizes that none of the entries mention his name. He is just 'he'. He guesses it must mean something, but he is too tired to analyze it. He flips to the last page of the journal in his hands.

It holds only one sentence:

_I got Sam back today. _

* * *

Somehow, Dean managed to put two some odd years of his life into one journal, and yet the past year took three. Not wanting to make his brother suspicious, Sam put the trunk back like he had found it and went back inside the hotel room. The rest of journals would have to wait for another night. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It would be a few days before Sam would get a chance to look at the rest of journals. After waking up at half past noon the next day, groggy and lightheaded, Dean made a point to keep a close eye on Sam's every move. Not wanting to make Dean anymore suspicious than he already was, Sam opted to wait until Dean wore himself out rather than take the chance with another dose of sleeping pills.

It didn't take long.

Taking the same precautions he had a few days ago, Sam eased his way out of the hotel room and into the empty parking lot of the two-bit hotel room they were staying in that particular night. Cautious of his surroundings, he made his way over to the car and set to work finding where he had left off.

Just as he had noticed a few days before, there were three journals devoted to the past year. Hoping that this would mean longer entries and a larger insight into Dean's psyche, Sam quickly dove into the task of reading.

He should have known better.

Longer doesn't always mean more quality reading, sometimes it just means more pictures and newspaper clippings. And girls' phone numbers on paper napkins.

However, between Candi-with-an-i and Megan-that's-M-E-G-A-N's digits Dean had left some thoughts on their little adventures.

The time between the end of the first journal and the beginning of the second seemed to span a few weeks and a couple of creatures.

_I saved a life today. I've done it a million times before but somehow this felt different. I don't know why. It seems like lately (ever since Sam came back) that everything, every "job" is a test. And I hate tests._

_By the way, Sam, (I know you'll find these eventually —hopefully, for your sake, after I'm long gone) that's reason number six on the "list of reasons I didn't go to college." You and Dad are reasons number one and two (and I'll just leave the two of you to fight over which number you are). Three and four involve money —a lack there of and an inability to get some (wasn't necessarily a genius like you, kid —on paper anyway). Number five is just because I was just too hot. Those sorority girls would've never stood a chance. I was just trying to help keep the educational system afloat. _

Sam turned the page and found only a single sentence that took up the whole page:

_I HATE FLYING!_

After that a few filler pages of cocktail napkins and scraps of paper with smeared numbers on them and one picture of Sam's nostrils with nickels shoved inside them, the ends of the photo worn and curling. Stuck behind that picture was a photo of a ten-year-old Dean with a wiry grin, obviously trying to stifle a full-blown smile, and one arm slung over Sam's shoulders and the hand of the other pointing, Vanna White-style, to his brother's red puffy nose, the emergency room background completed the picture.

A few pages seemed to be ripped out and the entries skipped a couple more weeks, most notably missing were their encounters with Bloody Mary, the shapeshifter, and the Hookman. And the only thing that remained of their dealings with those disgusting bugs were some notes on Indian legends and burial grounds.

'_Now, what's the point of reading these private journals if he knows I'm doing it and takes out everything he doesn't want me to see,'_ Sam thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The parking lot of their current home away from home was a slight more populated at the ungodly hour Sam choose to catch up on his reading. He retrieved the holy grails to Dean's mind and snuck behind the building, taking a seat on the hard ground.

Sam took a moment to get situated and leaned his head back against the cold motel's exterior. He was almost finished with the journals and that was a good thing. Dean was starting to look at him weirdly –well more so than usual. He was getting a little sluggish and the circles under his eyes were getting larger and darker from saying up all night reading. Sam just held fast to thought that he would finish the journals soon and things would be back to normal.

The rest of the entries in the remaining journals almost seemed like they were being censored; however, they gave just enough away about Dean's psyche to keep Sam satisfied.

_------ _

_Went back home. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. The damn house almost killed Sammy, well not the house, the demon in the house. _

_I tried to call dad again, but I just got that stupid voicemail. The man needs to get off his high horse and call us back for once. I know it must be for the best. He wouldn't do this if he didn't have a reason, but it sucks out loud anyway. _

_Mom's spirit saved us. Something about energies canceling out. I don't really care what happened because no matter how you slice it, she isn't ever going to be able to come back. It's not fair._

_------ __  
_

_Sam tried to kill me today. I totally saw that one coming. He wants to 'talk' about it. I don't know what they were teaching him in that college of his, but he really needs to hang up the chick flick moments. _

_And I want to know what the hell he talked about in that shrink's office. The kid was in there long enough to tell his whole life story and go back three generations. He probably needed it though._

_------ __  
_

_Dad finally called. He's on the trail of the thing -the demon that killed Mom. _

_He wanted us to go do some job in Indiana, something about missing couples. Sam, of course, got all pissy on me and decided he needed to go do his own thing, so he left to go find Dad. _

_Long story short, I got "captured" (I was handling it) by the local loons and offered up as a sacrifice with this really cute chick, Emily. Almost got killed, but Sam showed up (I had a plan, though). _

_So overall I think it was a good experience and I managed to fill my chick-flick quota for the year, so I'm good. _

_And dammit if I still haven't gotten any damn apple pie._

_------ __  
_

_I almost had my life snuffed out by a freaking rawhead a couple of days ago. The doctors said I was gonna die. Stupid doctors. _

_I can't say I'm happy, though. (crossed out) Layla would still be alive if (crossed out) Certain people would still be alive if I hadn't been healed. I was angry at Sam, but he did what he had too. He didn't know. I probably would have done the same thing, not that he needs to know that. Let him sweat a little._

_------ __  
_

_Those fucking monsters took Sammy. I'll kill them. _

_I can't even go take a leak, before that kid gets himself in trouble. It's really putting a strain on my social life. If he ever does this again, I'll kill him. I swear I will._

_I did manage to learn a lesson: Sam needs to get laid. He's such a wet blanket. Okay, two lessons: I need to work on getting some better "borrowed" IDs._

_------ __  
_

'Wet blanket my ass,' Sam thought, as he turned the journal's final page and then shut the book. He started to reach for another one when he realized it was getting close to sunrise. It would have to wait for another day. Today, they had a job to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Something about hunting and killing things, especially demonic things, makes Dean extremely horny. Which tonight is a good thing, because it means Dean will be 'out' for the night and Sam can read in the privacy of the motel room, with actual lighting. It took some finagling, but Sam finally convinced Dean he was too drunk to drive the car and managed to get the keys.

While under strict orders to get laid, or something that sounded like 'laid', as Dean's speech was a little slurred. Sam may have lied to Dean about the number of shots Dean had in fact consumed, before he went back for more. If the poor bastard can't keep track of how much liquor he consumes, he deserves to get his personal library of thoughts and feelings read by his younger brother, and possibly posted in said younger brother's blog.

* * *

_I don't know how to help him. It wasn't supposed to be this way. We were supposed to go back out on the road and it was going to be just like it was before -minus Dad-, but the mission would be the same. I can't begin even to know the degree to which Sam is hurting and it makes me angry. _

_I've always been able to fix whatever is hurting him and now I can't and it pisses me off. I'm glad he's back, but if I had known this would be the way it was going to go down, I wish I'd never gone to get him._

* * *

_He just makes me so mad sometimes. How can he possibly think it's his fault they died? Okay, I can see how he might think it, but he's smart enough to realize it's not his fault. _

_Sometimes, I just want to smack him upsides that shaggy head of his and then there are those times (they are few and far between mind you) that I just want to take him and hug him. Yeah, I said it. Dean Winchester sometimes wants to hug his brother. What? If I thought it would fix everything, I'd do it and never let go. Stop looking at me like that. _

_Seriously. _

* * *

_I don't know about Dad (I guess I do know how he feels about it: Nothing, since he won't return my fucking phone calls!), but I'm starting to feel afraid (for lack of a better word), or maybe ill-prepared would be a better description, about this whole freaky 'shining' thing. Seeing things that will happen in the future? Moving a cabinet with your mind? Come on. What am I so supposed to do about these things? _

_Seeing what the future holds would be bad enough, but having to see people die and then finding out you can't do anything about it? God, I'm so sorry, Sammy. _

* * *

_You know we finally get the family back together and it almost gets Dad killed. I almost get Dad killed. _

_Crazy-ass Meg and her crazy-ass daevas. What the hell kinda demons are too scared to fight in the flesh? It's a cop out if you ask me._

_I can't say I'm not a little disappointed with Meg dying. I'd hoped for a 'bigger' showdown. Of course the little bitch did deserve to get killed by her own posse. _

_Good riddance. _

* * *

_I think things might be starting to get back to 'normal' around here. Practical jokes are always a sign that normalcy is making its way back to into life. It's a proven fact —look it up._

_But, I swear to God, if that kid ever messes with my car again, I'll kill him. Said messing with the car better not include fish. That's my shtick. _

* * *

_Why does everyone think Sam and I are gay? _

_Kids today are so disrespectful, and they aren't even good at hiding it. They are a disgrace to every kid that lived before them. _

_Sam really needs to stop apologizing to me. It's starting to get old. I'm glad he's finally coming to realize how awesome I am, but he needs to find a new way to show it. _

_A suggestion: The phone numbers of at least two Playboy Bunnies. Or women that look like Playboy Bunnies. I'm not a real picky man. It's just a thought, do with it what you will. _

* * *

_Ah, so close. The kid almost got laid last night. Damn you cruel world, and evil paintings with crazy-ass kids with crazy-ass razor blades. _

_You know it's really starting to bug me, just when he starts to tell me what's really eating him up he says something like 'you don't know everything' or 'I need to keep some things to myself' or some other bullshit that just means I don't trust you enough with my 'feelings'. Whatever. But, then again I guess I can't complain too much since I do the same thing. Of course, I do it better, bitch. _

* * *

As Sam closes the journal and turns out the light, he realizes that Dean might think about sex a little too much. Thinking about sex too much? Nah, that would be impossible.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Can you tell I'm getting bored with the exposition? I never intended for there to be any exposition, I just wanted to write journal entries, but here I am. I have an ending in mind, actually it's written, I just keep coming up with journal entries. Plus, it just seems so dumb? You know what I mean? Yeah... 

Now, I have a question (God, this is the longest Author's Note in the history of Author's Notes.) :

**Which is worse:**

A fic that has a Mary Sue and doesn't state that it has one (either because they don't know the character is one or they just don't want to be bothered with the classification)

Or

A fic that knows it has a Mary Sue, states the fact that it has one, and then just goes on with the story like it's not a Mary Sue (this doesn't include those fics that are spoofs of other Mary Sue fics, where it is blatenly written in the story that it is a Mary Sue. I'm talking about the ones where in the summary they explain that the fic contains a Mary Sue and they know it, but they wanted to write the fic anyway.) I hope that makes sense.

**So, the question? **Huh? What? There was a question? Yeah, Known Mary Sue or Unknown Mary Sue: Which is worse?


End file.
